


Tears

by fairy911911



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy911911/pseuds/fairy911911
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to happen this way.</p><p>Everyone thought Dean Winchester would die as he lived: hunting things, saving the world from terror, surrounded by brother and best friend. Hell, half thought it would come to a crazed and passionately made demon deal (Lord knows that already happened).</p><p>So no one expected death to be a heart attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters or name of show, nor do I want to make a profit.  
> It is unbeta'd so there are probably a million errors.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Everyone thought Dean Winchester would die as he lived: hunting things, saving the world from terror, surrounded by brother and best friend. Hell, half thought it would come to a crazed and passionately made demon deal (Lord knows that already happened).

So no one expected death to be a heart attack.

A heart attack. From all the pie and diner food and liquor over the many long years. So ironic it only makes sense if Gabriel had done some sort of trick. But his brother swore up and down he had nothing to do with it this time.

What really hurt Castiel was that he could have done something to stop it. Dean had the attack when he was alone in the Bunker and Cas was a thousand miles away fighting off Angels and trying to stop the war on Earth, but he could hear Dean's prayers for help. Cas didn't listen; he thought his battle was more important in keeping the man alive. That choice killed him. Cas only knew what was happening when it was too late, when Dean's light had flickered out and the Bond between them was yanked apart. It wasn't broken, but pulled and torn and shredded so badly it physically pained Castiel constantly. The initial rip nearly knocked him out. He abandoned everything to go find Dean, now nothing was more important than finding Dean, but he was already gone when Cas entered the bunker.

Sam wasn't coping well. The man was in tears after Cas found him. More than depressed, he was angry. Furious At Cas. "You could have stopped it!" he shouted as he punched Cas in the jaw. "You let him die!" A punch to the neck, a left hook catching his jaw, then he grabbed the demon knife nearby. He stabbed Cas in the heart, knowing it would do nothing to the angel, but needing the release. Cas, for his part, took everything thrown at him. With practical open arms. He deserved it; he let Dean die. Sam finally lost his vision from the wave of tears and sunk to his knees. Cas held on to him, consoling him until he could function again.

Cas didn't know why he wasn't crying. He felt like it; he was so full of pain he was ready to burst, but nothing came. It didn't make sense. He had cried when he was a human: when Dean had kicked him out of the bunker, when Dean had left him at the store. Maybe it was because he was an angel again, emotionless. Dean had commented on that many times.

Sam was adamant about not burning the body. "If he came back once, he can do it again." He gave such a pleading look to Cas it nearly re-broke his heart. He wanted to bring him back, he wanted more than anything to bring Dean home. But Dean was in Heaven (after the near apocalypse Cas had ensured the route of Heaven for the Winchesters) and angels were still cast out. There was nothing to do.

After the funeral Cas stayed with Sam, helping on hunts and research and around the bunker. Sam ignored him entirely, only recognizing Castiel's presence as a sort of friendly spirit and not a person. He understood. He wasn't Dean; he had killed Dean.

It was a month after the burial Cas came to see the grave. It was plain, dug out in the field behind the bunker with only a small stone to mark it with. No one who would come by would ever realize the most important man in the world lay buried at their feet. Cas sat down and let his hand stroke the grass that was already coming back. He stayed there, quiet, for a few hours, lost in his memories of Dean and the guilt that plagued him. He didn't know when he had started singing in enochian, and it took him longer to realize it was "Highway to Hell."

It wasn't fair. Dean was a good man, righteous. He gave everything, his entire soul, to others, so wrapped up in self hatred he didn't believe he deserved anything better. He deserved so much more in his lifetime: a stable home, less death, a true love.

Cas's breath caught in his chest when he thought about this. He could have shown Dean how much he was loved. Because Cas, he loved Dean from hell and back, literally. It only pained him how he only realized this feeling when he had died as a human and was transported to his own Heaven for a few minutes. But the effect was clear enough: his happiest memories were with Dean and Dean alone. The emotion had always been there, since the day he pulled him out of perdition, combining Cas's grace and Dean's Soul into a bond so strong it survived death. So strong is still tingled slightly know, wrapping his vessel in a burning ache. It had done this since the attack. But why were his eyes burning all of a sudden? And why couldn't he breath? He only realized what was happening when hot salty tears flowed down his face and he could only get short gasps of breath in between is moans. The wall had come down and the emotion flooded out.

Cas stayed at the grave, letting his cries drown out the world around him. When he could finally pull himself together, he flew off to find Metatron, his resolve set. He had to find Dean, and nothing was going to stop him.

Cas searched for weeks, but no sign of the traitor came about. Only other angels hunted him, slowly tearing him apart piece by piece. He lived on the run, hunting a trail gone cold months ago, but served as his only hope. He didn't stop to slow down and barely gave a thought to healing himself. He would not rest until he found Dean. He had rested when he mourned, and was not going to repeat that cycle.

He caught a break 7 weeks after he left the bunker. Ariel, an angel that had joined the ranks of Metatron was visiting Earth. Cas attacked him, angel blade slashing at the other's vessel. The fight was short, and in the end Ariel was left unconscious with serious wounds. Cas nearly killed him on the spot, only controlling himself because the angel was of use.

Cas barely reflected on his stone cold heart as he brought the blade down the angel's ribs, a piercing scream reverberated around the abandoned barn. The torture chamber. He sliced open the arms, letting the blood run down the broken vessel. He deserved it. He was part of the group that kept the angels on Earth, forcing Cas to stop them, keeping him away from Dean, making him not save him. The blade went into the shoulder. The angel screamed.

"I don't know where Metatron is!" A slice a hair's breath from the point the grace is stored. "But I know how you can get into Heaven!" Cas stopped his blade and waited. Ariel told him how if he combined the flesh of a holy man and the blood of an angel, combined with an old enochian spell, a door would open for a few hours. Cas wasn't proud of whose flesh he took, an old priest on his death bed, but a person no less. He combined it with Ariel's blood and recited the spell in the old barn, whispering the words as if they were a prayer to Dean.  _I'll be there soon._

An explosion of light came from the doors, shining white and hot on the faces of the two angels. Cas took the angel blade, stabbed it into the vessel's heart, and walked into his old home.

Heaven was different. Barren. Not an angel in sight, as expected, but it still felt strange to move through the gardens and rooms to find no one. But he didn't have time to reminiscence or worry. He had to find Dean.

It took him a few tries to find the right Heaven, accidentally flying into a family dinner or pool party or first kiss. When he did find Dean's it was not what he expected. He remembered what Dean saw last time, him and a young Sam, him with his mother. All of it with his family. So it shocked him to find Dean in his impala seeming talking to an invisible body in the front seat. Cas made his way in to find Dean midway through a conversation.

"... that she's not into you. You have plenty of chances to find the right girl. Hell, without us dragging you around and cock-blocking, you might actually find someone, Cas." The angel blinked, remembering where they were. This was the night of his non-actual date when he and Dean just drove for hours, until dawn. He looked down to find he was in his white button up and jeans. This was one of Dean's best memories? A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his head. "Cas, you okay?"

"I'm fine Dean, just tired," he stuttered out, remember the dialogue he was supposed to play into.

"Yeah, well, once you get some sleep I'll help you find a girl. What your type?"

"I do not want a girlfriend Dean," he muttered.

Dean screwed up his face to look at him. "Why not?"

This was where he was suppose to lie and say that he didn't think he would make a good partner if he was being hunted and still knew nothing of human interaction, which Dean would accept with a huff and they would change the subject. But this was a memory, and there was nothing stopping him now. Cas took a deep breath. "Because there's already someone I love."

For a split second Dean's eyes betrayed him, revealing the fear, sadness, and jealously mingling inside. But in a flash it was gone, masked by the man's best-friend persona. "Who?" he asked, looking over at Cas.

Cas grabbed Dean's collar and pulled him into a kiss. It was messy and awkward and made Cas forget everything the pizza man taught him, but it was all worth it for the feel of Dean's lips moving against his. The car slowed to a hault as Dean's hands moved to Cas's face. The angel opened his lips, letting Dean tongue explore inside. Why had they not done this sooner? Everything was fine until Cas moaned into Dean's mouth, seemingly waking the man out of a haze; the hunter abruptly stopped the kiss and pulled away. Cas gave his signature head tilt and squint of confusion.

Dean caught his breath and stared at Cas in confusion. "I know that didn't happen the first time."

The angel gave a small smile. "Hello, Dean."

"Cas," he breathed. "The real Cas."

He nodded. "You're in Heaven, Dean."

"No shit," he laughed, no humor in his voice. "What are you doing here? I thought Heaven was closed to Angels."

Cas gazed into his eyes. "I snuck in. Dean, we're going home."

"You came to rescue me," he asked quietly.

Cas reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'll always save you, if you let me."

Dean gave him the warmest smile Cas had ever seen and slowly leaned down to kiss him. This nothing like the first one, full of heat and passion. Their lips moved together, softly pressing on the other's, just to confirm this was real.

The two made their way to the door, leaving it forever. Cas flew at top speed to the grave, gentlely laying Dean's soul on his body. Still, the force to bring him back pushed through the land, knocking down any trees for half a mile in any direction and shaking the ground with the force of a major earthquake. The angel quickly began digging for his hunter, meeting him halfway in the mess of dirt and pieces of broken coffin. Dean was okay, perfect. The man held Cas tightly, as if he was Dean's life support, and Cas gripped right back. Tears were flowing down his face again, but from relief. "Don't ever die on me again," he whispered. Dean just squeezed him in response.

A shout broke them from their embrace, and the couple turned to see Sam standing at the far edge of the field, paralyzed with shock. "Heya, Sammy," Dean called, with a small smile on his face. Sam ran up to his brother, smothering him in a hug. Now both men were crying and Dean made some comment about this being the only chick-flick moment they got. The team made there was back to the bunker, with Sam on Dean's left and Cas on his right. And if Sam saw the way Dean reached for Cas's hand as reassurance, the way Cas squeezed right back, and the look of longing in the two shared, he didn't mention it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first completed fic. This is tribute to my friend Bryant, who died early this morning. I wish I could bring you back.


End file.
